Some Mistakes are Too Good to Make Only Once
by Thalassa
Summary: **Chapter 2 is up**Hmm...to summarize this fic would be to give it all away, but lets just say its a case of missing and morphed identities.. b/s but other pairings I can't say... :) read and review!!
1. Chapter One

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Some Mistakes are Too Good to Make Only Once

By Thalassa

Author's Note: This takes place after the episode "Hells Bells" but before the upcoming episode "Normal Again." It may contain spoilers through "Hells Bells" and some insight into "Normal Again." It is Buffy/Spike, but with a major twist. I hope you like it, but flames aren't welcome. If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all.

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Disclaimer: Now, I don't own any of these people, but I wouldn't mind owning a few of them *hee hee* Anyway, nor do I own the situation I am now subjecting them to, that belongs to Cammila. I just wrote it! So, now, on with the fic!

P.S. I do own 1 person, but you never learn his name. :)

Chapter 1

Their lips met in a passionate caress as they fell into each other. All around was silence; watching and waiting. The moment seemed to go on forever as she gave in...Then, her eyes flew open in realization and she shoved the trench coat clad vamp backward into a tombstone.

"Spike!" Exclaimed the flustered Slayer. "What the _hell_ do you think you're doing?"

"What are _you_ doing?" Retorted the Scorned One, as he regained his footing and returned to face her.

Buffy's features tightened more, if that were possible. "Not you." Was her only reply as she pushed past him.

Spike grabbed her arm as she moved past. "Buffy, don't walk away from me."

"Let go of me, Spike." She said gravely.

Mist billowed around their feel as the platinum-haired bloodsucker turned her around and pressed his form to hers. "Make Me." He breathed, his voice sultry smooth.

"I meant it before and I meant it now, William."

Spike's face softened into a kind of sad fondness, and when he spoke his voice was gentle, almost soothing. "Buffy. You don't mean that."

"Yes, I do." She interjected.

"_No_ you _don't_ Buffy." He said, more firmly. "I feel it when I touch you. I see it in your eyes." He sighed. "Buffy," He looked deeply into her eyes for a moment before continuing. "What do you feel right now?"

She looked into his eyes for a long moment and it seemed as though she wouldn't answer when she did just that. "Cold." One word. She placed her hands on his pale face. "So do you." She commented. He looked on steadily.

"Do I make you that way, pet?"

"The chill of death makes me that way, Spike." She said, as though ending a dissertation. "And you're smothered in it."

"So are you." He said in his defense.

"Yeah," she said, lowering her arms. "But I am a bringer of Death, Spike. It's my gift. But I will not sleep on a bed of bones.*" With that she turned and left. Spike made no effort to stop her.

"Cut!" Yelled the Director, Rick Rosenthal. "That was great, Sarah! James, you were beautiful!..." His voice slowly faded as a shadow behind one of the trailers began to move away from the scene.

*How interesting* he thought. *I've seen these people before. Only, they were whom they pretend to be.* He smiled to himself and pulled from one of his pockets a small, non-descript white stone. As he turned it slowly in his hand, he spoke softly. "I'll have my fun and then we'll see just how foolish these mortals be.**"

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So, did you guys like it? What do you think so far? I need input people! Good input!

*This is a quote of the season finale of season 4. Buffy said this to the Original Slayer.

**This is a play on the words of the master of word play, William Shakespeare. It's a quote from my favorite play, A _Midsummer Night's Dream. It's reads "Lord, What fools these mortals be"_


	2. Chapter Two

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Chapter 2

Author's Note: I know this is a little short, but it's necessary. I hope that you like it and that you tell me what you think! Thanks! 

"She really means it, doesn't she?" Spike paced to and fro like a caged lion. "You do, don't you, Slayer? You finally accept that I'm a man, yeah, but what of it? Now I'm a man you scorn, not some _bloody_ demon you have your will with!" By this time he'd already devastated much of his already scorched downstairs, overturning heaps of debris in his wake.

All around him he smelled her. Her scent haunted him. That and her denial. _"I'm using you and it's killing me..."_ Her words came curling back to him.

"Bloody right." He growled as his anger and pain mounted. "You hide it, Buffy. That's what's killing you!"

He turned and glared at the wall of his underground abode with distain and heartache. In his mind, the petite Slayer gazed back at him, sardonically and unwavering. Something about that grin ate at him, made his still blood boil. His jaw tightened as his demon took charge. Enraged, he threw his clenched fist into her condescending smile.

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"I really can't believe him sometimes." Buffy Summers was making the long trek home from the Victorian Vamp's dwelling. "I told him 'no.' I told him 'no more.' I told him..."

She was interrupted by three vampires that decided, she supposed, that it was time for their demise. "Ya know, really not a good time here, guys. I'm in the middle of a rant."

Their leader, a big, ugly guy, didn't seem one for small talk. He lunged at her, but Buffy made short work of his offense, bending low and sending him careening into a statue.

"Ya know guys; " She addressed the other two. "Violence really isn't the answer." They replied by advancing with their game faces on. "Oh well, screw philosophy!"

She met them halfway, pulverizing the first before the other could even touch her. After dusting him, she turned to the second, forgetting and turning her back to their leader.

He crept up behind her as she engaged the other, the detached arm of a statue held aloft above his head. He brought it down upon the unbeknownst Slayer's pretty head and she fell, never knowing what had hit her.

The Big Ugly smiled in satisfaction and nodded to his eager associate, who grinned and grabbed her wrist. Just as the leader bent over her neck and was about to sink his teeth in, there as the thin ring of a drawn sword and the soft thud on the damp earth as the other vamp's head landed and then the fluttered away on the evening air.

The remaining vamp looked up the blade of a sword the likes of which he'd never seen to meet the eyes of a very similar man. He was tall; at least from this crouched vantage point and well muscled. He was clad all in black and had short-cropped hair the color of raven's feathers. His deep blue eyes glittered with merriment and a playful smile tugged the corners of his lips.

"Who are you?" The vampire managed to croak.

"You may call me Mischieff," was the stranger's reply. "And I wonder how you figure you can foil my plans."

The vamp seemed confused. "Oh, well." Mischieff continued. "It's no matter. Goodbye." With that, he swung swiftly and the vamp was decapitated.

Finally along, Mischieff nodded approvingly and again took out the stone. He tossed it into the air where it spun for a moment before disappearing. "Well," he said simply. "That's that."

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So, I what didja think? I like it but I don't know if you do! Anyway, tell me what you think and sorry again that it's sooo short! More soon! Buh bye!


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